| III.1.084 |
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Once there was no capital but the unsullied land. A man inherited nothing but his pride, he
labored only to satisfy his hunger and his children's: he was virgin, an animal having no
expectations. Over many thousands of lifetimes the man changed. He discovered his own
cleverness. He made things - axes, pots, implements of bronze and later iron - and tamed
others - the sheep, the wolf and strawberries. He became sedentary, tilling and sowing,
learning the ways of industry, distributing the seeds and change of War, creating an
investment in himself and his place on the face of earth. | Then came organizers: Egypt's Pharaohs, the Emperor's of Chine and the Maya. Embodied in the magic pyramid they discovered the concept of Man as Ant and created the nation state. They were the first industrialists. Their capital was their work force: slaves. The product of their industry, tombs, was, for them as consumers, valid and useful, guaranteeing eternal life. After all, what real use is anything? Men are money. If man ceased to exist all the money in the world would be worth precisely nothing. So the initial investment for any would-be capitalist society are the living bodies of its people enslaved to some degree. It makes no difference whether the capital is owned by the individual or the State. Only when the machine exists can the man be spared but then he becomes redundant. Eldridge Bluemud had a precedent. He occupied the position of the Pharaohs: an industrialist in a world without machines, a capitalist in a world with no capital but peoples lives. As a dogmatic man he considered himself entitled to those lives at whatever cost in suffering, so long as he could achieve his goal. On the evening of July 4th, 2477, following his speech to his men Bluemud flew with Elizabeth to attend yet another Tutor's Dinner at the University and reflected on these things. Naturally he did not draw his analogy too closely with the Pharaohs: they were barbarians who cared nothing for their workers lives. As his plane moved through the sultry air at eleven thousand feet he reviewed his progress. The mine organization was complete: he had enough men to produce four hundred tons a week if pushed and, he figured, with training and improved equipment that figure might eventually be tripled. Work on the foundry had begun: they had finished the water wheel required to drive the bellows and laid the foundation of the furnace; the foundry was on schedule though its completion was many months away. After that there were many other projects to be addressed: a steel mill, a forge, a dam upstream. All these would require additional labor and for the moment Bluemud's sources had dried up. There were so few pockets of people remaining in the wilderness that searching for them simply wasn't worth the risk of being discovered by the Army. He considered it was better to lie low and manage with what he had until the War was over and the Army was disbanded. Then, who knew what might be left? In the meantime, as soon as the schoolhouse was finished, he decided that he would divert the men working there to the foundry and take an extra fifty men from the mine as well. The labor shortage was the sort of problem that any active and successful businessman might have and Bluemud understood that. He thanked his lucky stars that he had come this far and, as he traversed the miles of empty valleys and hills casting long shadows in the evening sunshine, Bluemud's heart was mellow. |
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